


ready player one

by lilcrickee



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Gangbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25446403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilcrickee/pseuds/lilcrickee
Summary: There are only two rules to the scene, and only one that Mark has any concrete grasp on what it means. One: don't come without permission. Two: be good for his hyungs.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta, Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 48
Kudos: 424





	ready player one

**Author's Note:**

> On my birthday this year, Johnny did a menpa where someone told him they loved 95 line and, inexplicably, Johnny's response was to say Mark was trying to join????
> 
> Thus, this fic.
> 
> Not beta'd. It does deal with a scene that is essentially negotiated off-screen, so please read with caution.

The silk is soft against Mark’s face.

His eyelashes flutter against the blindfold, a sleep mask they’d swiped from the wardrobe room last week. No one will miss it if it suddenly _goes missing_. They definitely won’t be returning it when they’re done with it.

There’s a rustling sound from his left. Mark’s ears strain, trying to pick up any sign of what’s going on, but for the most part, the others are quiet. Hardly a whisper of a breath, barely a footstep out of place. Everything designed to keep Mark on edge and in the dark.

Suddenly, a hand -- a finger, really -- traces its way up Mark’s belly, across his sternum. The hand unfurls, fingers curling lightly around his throat, a threat of what might occur if Mark misbehaves.

Or a promise.

“You’ve been very patient, haven’t you, baby?”

Johnny’s voice, low and rumbling, an octave lower than what Mark is used to hearing. It sends a full body shiver coursing through him. “Hyung,” he says, quiet and cautious, unsure of whether or not he can speak. It’s hard, not being able to judge from facial expression.

Johnny hums in response, and suddenly his hand is gone. Mark feels his body tense from anticipation, muscles locking as he tries his best to hear what’s going on. Nothing but the soft thump of music from a room down the hall.

A pair of lips land on his cheek, trailing against the cut of his jaw. Mark gasps, but he stays still. It’s worth it to hear Yuta whisper breathlessly, “Good boy,” in his ear. It’s worth it to be rewarded with soft kisses pressed to his skin, to have his head tilted to the side so that Yuta can trail his lips down the side of his neck and worry a bruise into the skin there. It’s fine. They don’t have schedules for a week.

There’s one more person in the room; one more person to impress. Mark feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin when Yuta pulls away. The anticipation is killing him. 

Finally: “Shall we begin?”

Taeyong’s voice is loud in the quiet of the room. It draws an involuntary whimper from Mark’s mouth, makes his fists clench tightly in the bedsheets. He’s been waiting for this for weeks.

Mark doesn’t quite know how this arrangement came about. A stray caress here, lingering eyes there. Yuta, pushing him against the wall beside the 10th floor front door and kissing him harshly after one of their _Kick It_ performances. Taeyong, petting his hair fondy in an interview. Johnny, grabbing his ass after a dance practice. Time spent orbiting the three of them: together or separately, filling up the empty spaces in Mark’s life.

What he does know is that Johnny had caught him around the waist after they taped the baseball team videos, whispered in his ear about how good his ass looked in the uniform pants. How much Johnny wanted to fuck him. 

What he does know is that Taeyong had been standing in the doorway to the practice room, watching them with careful, calculated eyes and a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

What he does know is that Yuta, so fond of showering Mark with attention always, had found him three days ago and had asked if he’d wanted to come join the fun of being part of the 95 line.

Mark hadn’t known what that meant until he had sat down in his room with Johnny, Taeyong, and Yuta the night before and had been told exactly what they would be doing to _initiate_ him.

Nails scratching across his stomach brings Mark’s mind back to the present. He gasps as Taeyong’s hand trails across his belly and over the jut of his hip, down across the pale skin of his inner thigh, so close to where his cock is already lying hard against the opposite.

“Oh,” he sighs, toes flexing. “Hyung?”

“Yes,” comes the chorus of replies. 

Mark feels dizzy with the attention. “Please?” he asks. 

A moment later a weight settles over his lap. “Oh, sweetheart,” Taeyong says, caressing Mark’s chest, pinching at his nipples and fitting his fingers between Mark’s ribs. “You’ll take what we give you. Tonight, and every night after this, you belong to us.”

For a moment, Mark is reminded of what this is: a scene. A carefully negotiated sequence of events with crafted personas to fit the bill. Taeyong's is scarily close to his stage persona, cold and sickeningly charming, and it's this reminder of where he is and who he's with that has Mark relaxing into the sheets.

"Sorry, hyung," he whispers. He earns a hand petting through his hair for his obedience. 

"Welcome to your initiation," Yuta says.

There are only two rules to the scene, and only one that Mark has any concrete grasp on what it means. One: don't come without permission. Two: be good for his hyungs. 

Gentle hands nudge him over onto his belly, and Mark goes willingly. More hands pet over his back, slap at his ass, tug on his hair, and Mark moans.

"You're so lucky that there's three of us around to help you," Johnny says, tugging at Mark's hips until he's up on his hands and knees. "Lucky that we all decided you were worth our time."

Someone pulls on Mark's hair, yanking his head up. He gasps. "What do you say, Markie?" Yuta asks. It's his hand that's in Mark's hair.

Mark's brain stutters. Be good for his hyungs. "Thank you," he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you!"

Johnny hums, thumbs digging into the dip of Mark's back. Yuta's hand skims the cut of his jaw. Mark shivers; he wants to know where Taeyong is. Taeyong, who leads him through their careers, who unsurprisingly is their ringleader for the night here, too.

"You know," Johnny says, distracting Mark. "We talked about who should get to have you first, argued about it, even."

"But the thing is - " Taeyong, from somewhere to Mark's left. He'd move his head, but Yuta's still holding it in place - "if we're going to bring you into 95 line, we shouldn't have to take turns. We can have you all at the same time, right, sweetheart?"

Mark shivers. All at the same time? He’s -- not really sure what that would entail. He was under the impression that they were all going to fuck him, but he should know better. Yuta’s mind is too devious to be satisfied by the ordinary.

Mark gets another slap on the ass for his silence. The sensation goes straight to his dick, and Mark thinks briefly about how every time one of the members spanks him playfully he’ll probably pop a semi after this.

“Yes, hyung,” he says.

“Good boy.”

There’s a flutter of movement around him, the wisp of a feeling as Johnny climbs off the bed behind him. When he comes back, he hauls Mark up onto his knees so that they’re back to chest. Johnny is naked now, the hot flush of his skin searing against Mark's. Mark can feel the movement of Yuta moving from the bed, feels the shift of weight of another body being added to the mix.

“The blindfold was Yuta’s idea,” Johnny says lowly in his ear. Mark shivers. He can feel where Johnny is hard, pressed up against his lower back. He’s big; bigger than Mark probably, but he doesn’t know how he compares to the other men in his bed. Mark’s never had the opportunity to be privy to this knowledge before. “Do you like it? Adds to the mystery, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Mark breathes. The bed shifts under their knees. “I like it, hyung, thank you.”

Johnny snickers. He pauses for a moment, just breathing, the rise and fall of his chest obvious against Mark’s back. It takes Mark a moment to realize he must be communicating with Taeyong and Yuta, but it only lasts a moment before Mark is being pushed forward. Mark flails, but hands come up to frame his shoulders, guide him back down until he can brace his hands on the bed. 

It’s then that he realizes that there’s someone under him.

"Let's have some fun, hmm?" Taeyong asks, before dragging Mark down for a kiss.

It feels weird, at first, to be kissing with no sight reference. Mark feels clumsy at the beginning, lips skimming the corner of Taeyong's mouth, his upper lip, before Taeyong takes his face in his hands and guides him properly. Leads him, always leading him. After that, it's easy to fall into the rhythm of their mouths moving together, to relax into the easiness of kissing and being kissed. Mark has at least done this before.

Everything else will be new, and these are the people he wants to do it with.

"Yong, don't be greedy," Yuta says from somewhere above Mark's head. "The whole point is that we get to _share_."

"Because you're so good at that day-to-day," Taeyong replies breathlessly. Mark can practically hear the eyeroll in Taeyong's voice. 

"Can't help it if Markie likes me best," Yuta comments, which draws a growl from Johnny. 

"It doesn't count if you monopolize his time."

"Please. You and Mark spend hours holed up in your room _making music_ and him and Yong get to go gallivanting around the world without us in SuperM. I'm far from taking up all of Mark's time."

There's a thrill that runs down Mark's spine. They're talking about him, _arguing_ about him like he's not even there. Like he's just something to be passed around between them for a good time. It rips a low whine from the back of his throat, makes his head hang as he seeks out Taeyong's shoulder to hide in. 

Taeyong laughs. "Oh, you've upset him," he says, neck tipping back. Mark wonders if he's looking at Yuta. "Maybe you should give him something in apology."

"I mean, I can think of a pretty appropriate gift," Yuta replies, the smirk evident in his tone.

A hand grips Mark's hair, tugging him from his hiding place. "Markie," Yuta croons. Mark lets himself be pulled back up to his hands and knees, takes stock of all the hands on him: in his hair but also running up his sides and across his ribs, petting his flank and kneading his ass. So much attention, all for him.

Something touches his cheek, startling him, and it takes Mark a moment to realize that it's not a hand like he initially thought. It's a cock. Yuta's cock. He whines without thinking.

Yuta laughs, almost cold sounding. He drags his cock along Mark's cheek, leaving a wet streak in its wake, before he's tapping at Mark's lips with the head. "Sorry for upsetting you," Yuta says, but he doesn't sound very contrite. "Here's a present to make up for it."

Mark's never done this before, but he's thought about it, and he's talked about it with Yuta. Cuddled close to Yuta, rutting his hips down against his thigh, whining as Yuta whispered in his ear, "Can you imagine how I'd taste? How it would feel to have me on your tongue, filling your mouth, slipping down your throat? You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're so _desperate_ for it, aren't you, Markie?" Still, everything that Yuta had whispered to him, every shred of filth, could never compare to the real thing.

Mark is surprised by the stretch, how wide he feels like he needs to open his mouth to accommodate Yuta's girth. Is he big? Mark can't tell. Maybe his mouth is just small. 

Yuta slides in slowly, taking his time so that Mark can feel everything: how hot he is, how firm he is. He's heavy on Mark's tongue, a constant pressing weight that makes Mark feel light-headed. 

"Shit," Yuta says. He pulls back before thrusting back in shallowly. "Look at you."

Mark wants to. He wishes they could take pictures; he wants to be able to see himself with them, the boys he trusts most to take care of him. Pictures are risky, though. Maybe next time they can do this in front of the mirror.

Mark can tell that Yuta is pulling his punches. His thrusts are gentle, a direct contrast to the filth falling out of his mouth. It’s -- nice. Dreamy, almost. Mark feels like he could just settle here forever with a cock in his mouth and hands roaming his body. 

As good as a distraction having a dick in his mouth is, Mark still startles when he feels Johnny’s hands palming his ass, pushing at the cheeks until Mark is exposed and on display. He can feel himself clench involuntarily, whimpers at the thought of what he must look like. This is -- this is uncharted territory. He’s never fingered himself before, never touched himself there, and Mark can feel himself tremble.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Taeyong says from underneath him. He pets along Mark’s cheek, presses when Yuta thrusts in again just to feel. Mark moans. “Johnny will take care of you, hmm?”

Mark can’t reply, but he feels the way his body stops shivering with nerves.

Johnny’s finger circles his rim, massaging and petting until Mark starts to feel himself relax. Taeyong is making soft, cooing noises, and Yuta is still rambling about how good his mouth feels. 

When Johnny presses in, Mark can’t focus on anything else.

“Oh,” he moans, garbled around Yuta’s dick. It feels -- weird. Not bad weird, but different. Full. Mark almost wants to laugh; he can’t feel full yet. It’s just one finger.

He wants to know if he’d feel this sensitive without the blindfold, if the drag of Johnny’s finger against his rim would be this intense, if having something to clench down on would be as fulfilling. Every one one of his senses feels like it’s dialed up in the absence of his sight, and Mark can’t decide if he’s glad he can’t see anything or if he’ll regret it in the long run if nothing ever feels this intense again.

When Johnny slips a second finger in, Yuta slows his thrusts until he’s just a heavy weight sitting on Mark’s tongue. Mark moans, suckling as best he can, trying to get Yuta to move, but Yuta’s resolve wins out. 

“Don’t want you to choke,” Yuta says, petting over the top of Mark’s head. “Does it feel good, though?”

Mark whines. He’s started pressing his hips back, unconsciously trying to get Johnny to move faster or add another finger or -- anything. The slow, tender pace is making Mark’s bones ache with anticipation.

Taeyong laughs. “Wait till you have Johnny’s cock in you,” he says. Mark can feel Taeyong’s legs shift, like he’s reaching out for Johnny. “Best fuck of my life.”

A third finger prods at Mark’s hole. Mark can feel himself drool around Yuta’s cock; he hopes he’s not getting Taeyong all messy, though judging from how hard and wet his own cock feels, he figures maybe a little mess wouldn’t be too out of place. 

“Looks like you’ve got some stiff competition, baby,” Johnny says, and it takes Mark a moment to realize he’s being talked to. He’s baby in this situation. Then, the words process.

“Uh?” he asks intelligently, the only thing he can say with his lips stretched wide around Yuta’s girth still.

A hand closes around his cock, long slender fingers that flex minutely with every stroke. Mark sobs at the stimulation, but Taeyong doesn’t let go. “Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs. His legs move again, and Mark can feel them bracketing his hips. “What did you think was going on here?”

Honestly -- Mark doesn’t know. His brain feels foggy, head high in the sky, consumed purely by touch and feeling. He thought -- spitroasting is common enough in porn. Mark knows this. He didn’t know how Taeyong was going to fit into the equation, but it seems obvious now. Mark feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.

Johnny laughs, pulling his fingers free from the tight clutch of Mark’s body. It feels like the only thing holding him up now is Yuta’s cock still sitting on his tongue and Taeyong’s hand, casually stroking along his length. 

The hot feeling of something huge and blunt pressing against Mark’s rim startles a whine out of him.

"Maybe you should pull out, Yuta," Johnny says. He slaps his dick against Mark's hole, making him startle. The wet smack is -- obscene sounding. "He won't be able to control his mouth and I don't want him biting your dick off."

Yuta laughs, but does as suggested. Mark misses his cock immediately, but he groans at the ache in his jaw. Gentle hands reach up to massage the soreness. "Relax, sweetheart," Taeyong whispers.

Mark hadn't realized how tense he had become. For as eager as he been to participate in this scene, the nerves seem to have caught up with him. He's about to be fucked for the first time. He sucked a dick for the first time. The implication is that he's going to fuck someone for the first time. It all comes crashing down on him at once, the overwhelming realization of what the fuck he's doing.

"Markie," Yuta croons, sharp tone cutting through Mark's spiraling thoughts. 

Mark remembers two things in quick succession: don't come without permission, and be good for his hyungs. He’s made good on the first promise, but Mark is certain that he’s quickly failing at the second. This isn’t about him, after all. His initiation is supposed to be about his hyungs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Even with the blindfold on, he feels incredibly exposed: vulnerable and laid bare. His hyungs can see everything while Mark can see nothing. “Sorry. I haven’t been good. Sorry, sorry.”

Soft hands touch his face, pet through his hair, run over his back. “Oh sweetheart,” Taeyong says. “You’ve been so good for us.”

“Made me feel so good,” Yuta adds. 

“Were so patient for me,” Johnny says. 

“And you know we don’t have to do anything else, right?” Taeyong continues. “If you want to stop here, that’s okay.”

“But - “ Mark starts. “That’s not being good?”

“You would be the best, sweetheart,” Taeyong says. “You’d be so good for us, telling us to stop when you’re at your limit. We’d be so proud of you.”

_Oh._ Mark wants to melt into Taeyong’s embrace with the relief that pulses through him. The reminder that he can tap out and that it’s not a bad thing to change his mind is reassuring, and it almost feels like it breathes life back into Mark’s system. He _can_ tap out, but he _won’t_. He wants this.

“I want to keep going,” he says, just loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. “I want -- I really want this, hyung.”

“And you’ll tell us if you don’t,” Johnny says, but he’s already notching the head of his dick against Mark’s hole again, a soft pressure but a looming presence.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Mark says. “I -- please, hyung. Fuck me.”

He likes that they don't ask him again if he's sure. It makes him feel trusted, like there's some truth to this _initiation_ process, like once he's made it through he'll be one of them. 

It's hard to relax in the face of Johnny pressing his dick steadily into him. Mark gasps, back arching under the onslaught of sensation. He feels -- stretched thin, like he might break from the way that Johnny is prying him apart. Every nerve in his body is on fire, yet he feels like he's drowning. He can just barely hear the sounds that leave his mouth, soft needy whimpers and unfiltered sobs. 

Taeyong's hands smooth over his cheeks. Yuta's thread through his hair, scratch at his scalp. The comfort feels at odds with how dismissively they’d treated him earlier: like he was an object to be used and discarded. 

Johnny feeds his cock in slowly, pulling back just to push a little further in each time until Mark feels the press of his hips against his ass, until he feels so full that the thought of being empty afterwards scares him. Behind him, Johnny releases a deep, guttural groan that shakes through Mark. He did that. He made Johnny feel _good_.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Taeyong asks, petting the sweaty hair off of Mark’s forehead. “Does Johnny feel good in you?”

“Y-yes,” Mark stutters, voice cracking down the middle when Johnny shifts, pulling his hips back slightly before pushing in again. Mark feels intimately aware of how stretched his rim is, how tight his body clenches around Johnny’s dick. “I -- I feel so full, hyung.”

“Mm, baby, you’re like a dream,” Johnny replies. “Yong? I think we’re good.”

“‘Kay,” Taeyong replies easily. He removes one of his hands from Mark’s face, leaving a cool impression in its place. “I’ll go next. Then Yuta.”

Yuta makes a sad, whining noise. “I don’t want to wait,” he pouts.

“Remember what we said about dick biting,” Johnny says breathlessly. Mark can feel his cheeks flush. 

He has -- he has some idea of what’s happening, but it still surprises him when he feels Taeyong’s hand on his dick again, this time slicked with lube. It’s cold, and Mark flinches back into Johnny, but Taeyong just shushes him and nudges him forward again, guiding Mark until he’s got Mark positioned at his hole.

“Oh, hyung,” Mark whimpers. He wants to make Taeyong feel good, wants him to feel as full and satisfied as Johnny has made him feel. Disappointing Taeyong -- any of them -- is not an option. He has to be good.

The instant his cock slips into Taeyong -- stretched and a little wet from god knows when -- Mark feels like the bed’s been ripped out beneath him. It’s too much. Too much sensation at once, with the feel of Johnny’s cock in him and the tight clench of Taeyong around him as Johnny pushes their hips forward, sinking Mark further and further. Above him, Yuta says, “Fuck, you guys look amazing.”

Mark whimpers.

His fingers clench tightly in the sheets next to Taeyong’s head. He thinks -- he thinks he might come. It feels like his nerves are stretched thin, every touch to his skin unbearable and yet, not enough. 

Breathlessly, Taeyong laughs. “Look at how his mouth hangs open,” he says. Mark’s jaw aches as he snaps it shut, completely unaware that it had dropped. “He really wants you back, Yuta.”

“Yeah, and are we still worried he’s going to bite my dick off?” Yuta asks. He sounds almost bored, which makes tears surprisingly well up in Mark’s eyes. If Yuta is bored, it means Mark isn’t doing a good job.

“I’m sure it’s fine now,” Johnny says easily, like he’s not affected at all by the fact that he’s balls deep in Mark’s ass. “You can suck Yuta off, right, baby?”

“Yes,” Mark rasps immediately. He can feel the blindfold soaking up some of the tears that have leaked out of the corners of his eyes where they’re clenched tight, even while covered. “I can do it. I can be good.”

“I mean, it was one of the only rules,” Yuta says. Mark sucks in a shuddering breath as Yuta lifts his head by the hair and taps his cock against Mark’s lower lip. Mark immediately opens his mouth. “The only question is: can you be good for all three of us at once?”

Mark’s first thought is _yes_. Of course, but he quickly discovers it’s harder than he thought. As Yuta feeds his cock into Mark’s mouth, Mark finds his brain zeroing in on the now-familiar taste of precome on his tongue, the soft velvety feel of Yuta’s cock filling him up. It’s so easy to concentrate on what he already knows that he forgets about Johnny and Taeyong until Johnny eases his hips back and then pushes in again. 

After that, Mark doesn’t know what to focus on. He’s handed his body over to his hyungs, but his mind flits from sensation to sensation, like every neuron in his brain is firing all at once. He relishes in the thickness of Johnny inside him, the way he stretches Mark so well and fills him to the point where Mark doesn’t remember what it feels like to be empty anymore. He clings to the slide of his cock inside Taeyong, where he’s warm and a little wet from lube, clenching rhythmically around him. He adores the rough way Yuta fucks his mouth, treating Mark like he’s strong and not made out of glass.

He likes that they’re all using him to find their own pleasure. This is what it takes to run with the big boys, to be part of 95 line, and Mark will give them everything.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” Taeyong says from underneath him. “You’re doing such a good job for your first time, fucking me so well.”

“Just wait till we have a little more time with you.” Yuta stills Mark’s head, presses his dick in as far as he can before Mark chokes, throat spasming. Yuta laughs. “I bet we could even train you to take Johnny’s dick down your throat.”

Johnny must be big, Mark thinks hysterically, eyes watering anew under the blindfold. He doesn’t have any reference, but he can’t imagine taking something bigger than Johnny’s cock in his ass. He already feels stretched to the limit.

“We’ll teach you to fuck someone for hours,” Johnny says. “Build up your stamina.”

“How to eat someone out,” Taeyong adds. “Yuta loves it when you rim him.”

“Yeah, you with your quick tongue,” Yuta sighs, thrusting shallowly. He’s leaking profusely now, the salty taste of precome ever-present on Mark’s tongue. “You’d be so good at eating me out, wouldn’t you, Markie?”

_Yes_ , Mark wants to say. _Because that was one of the only rules._

They laugh when he doesn’t answer. How could he with Yuta’s dick in his mouth? Mark whines, the embarrassment burning hot down his spine, chased away by Taeyong’s hands on his cheeks, shushing him. 

“When we’re done with you, you won’t want anyone else,” Taeyong whispers. He moans at a particularly hard thrust from Johnny’s hips that push Mark’s forward into him. “You’ll always come back to us.”

If Mark could, he thinks he’d be sobbing. He feels so good, the pleasure of being fucked compounded by the sensation of fucking someone else threatening to overwhelm him. He’s right on edge, but he can’t come without permission -- and he can’t ask for permission if his mouth is stuffed full of cock.

Mark cries, tears leaking profusely now, noises garbled and muffled by the steady rhythm of Yuta’s cock. His brain feels a million miles away, lost in a hazy cloud of pleasure. He barely registers how hard his arms are shaking, how his toes curl with each thrust from Johnny that jolts him forward into both Taeyong and Yuta. There’s drool dripping on his chin, and he wonders belatedly if he’s drooling all over Taeyong. He should apologize. He should --

Above him, Yuta grunts. His hips stutter, rhythm faltering. “Markie,” he warns, and through the haze in his mind, Mark recognizes what’s happening. “Do you want me to come in your mouth or on our face?” He makes to pull out, but Mark sucks hard on the head of his cock, just the barest scrape of teeth along the vein along the bottom to make Yuta shiver.

“Fuck,” he moans, thrusting in hard again. “Guess that answers that question.”

Yuta’s lost all his rhythm, but his thrusts are rough. Mark can hear the lewd, gurgling noises he makes as Yuta pushes him, stretches him to his limits. He thinks he might actually break, thinks he might need to tap out, when Yuta’s hips still for a moment. There’s a burst of salt on Mark’s tongue, tangy and bitter, but welcome all the same as Yuta lets out a low moan, hips beginning to thrust shallowly again. Mark tries his best to curl his tongue along the underside of Yuta’s cock, tries to make it good for him while he shakes through his orgasm.

Finally, Yuta pulls out. Before Mark can swallow, he feels a hand on his chin, fingers stretching to press at the hinge of his jaw so that his mouth drops open. _He wants to see,_ Mark thinks, and obediently shows off Yuta’s release on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Yuta says breathlessly. He pets over Mark’s jaw before there’s a shift in the bed and then a pair of lips on Mark’s, a tongue curling into his mouth to lick out the taste on his tongue.

“That’s pretty filthy, Yuta,” Johnny comments. It’s only then that Mark realizes that both Johnny and Taeyong have stilled. He immediately feels bad. Was he not pleasing them enough through Yuta’s orgasm? Was he bad for them? 

Yuta pulls back, likely with his familiar Cheshire cat grin. “I had to reward him for being a good boy,” he says. His fingers trail over Mark’s bottom lip before slipping into his mouth. Despite the ache in his jaw, Mark sucks automatically.

Taeyong laughs breathlessly. “Ah, fuck,” he says. “We’ve created a monster.”

It reminds Mark of the position he’s in: held open on Johnny’s cock and pressed deep inside of Taeyong. He shifts his hips, trying to jump start their movements, but it just earns more laughter from the room.

“Look at how eager he is,” Johnny says. “So impatient.”

Mark’s blood feels hot. “Sorry,” he mumbles around Yuta’s fingers. Yuta pulls them out, wipes the saliva on Mark’s cheek.

“What was that?” 

“I’m sorry,” Mark repeats. 

Johnny, at least, has started moving his hips again. The drag of his cock inside Mark feels electric; Mark feels so sensitive, like he might just shake out of his skin rather than endure the sensations any longer. Taeyong clenches around him as he slides in deeper, making Mark moan.

“What are you sorry for, baby?” Johnny asks. 

Mark blinks from behind the blindfold. He’s stopped crying for now, but the fabric is uncomfortably wet and sticking to his face. “I’m - “ he starts. “I can’t -- it’s so hard to -- fuck -- so hard to focus.”

Taeyong coos. “Are you having a hard time keeping up, sweetheart?”

Mark whines. He can feel hands on his hips, but from the angle it must be Yuta. They guide him, starting a new rhythm for him so that every time he pushes into Taeyong, he pulls away from Johnny. When his hips buck back, Johnny’s cock is there to fill him up while he slides out from the hot clench of Taeyong’s body.

“That’s better, isn’t it, Markie?” Yuta asks. “Feels like you’re doing more of the work now, right?”

“Yes,” Mark gasps. Before he’d just been a body to be used, but now he feels like he’s the one doing all the work, like Taeyong and Johnny can just be stationary while he rolls his body between theirs. Somehow it makes him feel more used than before.

“You’re being so good for us,” Taeyong says. “You’ve done so much even though it’s your first time.”

Mark’s hips stutter forward. The inexperience eats at him, but there’s a part of him that’s glad that this was his first time. That he did everything with these people.

“I’m surprised he’s held out this long,” Johnny grunts. He palms Mark’s ass, massages and pulls at the cheeks until Mark can feel the stretch at his rim. “Mark Lee, truly the ace of SM.”

It’s this comment, more than anything else, that tugs at Mark’s gut. He can feel his balls tighten, the build of his orgasm suddenly present and breaking through the fog in his mind like the sun peeking through the clouds. How long has he been on the edge for? Since Yuta came? Before?

“Oh,” he moans as Taeyong rolls his hips into Mark’s next thrust. He can feel the brush of a hand against his lower belly, can just barely pick up the slick sound of skin on skin that must be Taeyong jerking himself off. All three of them have been so calm and collected; it feels like a surprise that Taeyong and Johnny are so close now, the same way it had surprised Mark when Yuta came.

With Yuta’s help, the pace picks up. All Mark can hear is his own ragged breathing, the sticky sound of skin on skin as their hips find each other. He’s dripping with sweat, drooling a little again. There are tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“Hyung,” he gasps. He doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Any of them. “Hyung, please.”

“You want to come?” Taeyong asks. For the first time, he sounds breathless, like he’s finally being affected by what they’re doing. “We need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

Mark’s brain doesn’t feel capable of stringing together a single thought, let alone trying to get his mouth to spit out words. Funny, considering how unfiltered Mark’s thoughts are usually.

“Please,” he begs again. He’s trying to focus but it’s so hard with the pleasure mounting up inside him. Johnny feels huge, hitting his prostate on every thrust, the wide girth of him stretching Mark further than what he thinks he should be able to take. It would be too much on its own, but Mark has to contest with the wet heat of Taeyong, too, the way he tightens up periodically around Mark like he can’t bear for Mark to pull away. “Please -- I want - “

He wails on a particularly harsh thrust from Johnny. 

“What do you want, baby?” Johnny asks.

He’s so close. Mark is so close. He could come, but he knows he has to ask. It’s just a matter of whether or not he can get the words out in time.

“I want - “ he gasps. “I want to come. Please. Please, hyung, can I come?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, no talking, just the harshness of their breathing and the lewd sounds of sex. 

Then, as one: “Yes.”

Mark’s mind goes blank. Maybe it’s the relief of being given permission, the opportunity to let down his guard and sink into the feeling in his gut. Whatever it is, Mark comes practically on command. 

It feels so much more intense than when he gets off by himself. He loves being able to clench around something, didn’t even know his body contracted that way until he feels the way he clamps down on Johnny’s cock. He loves the way Taeyong tightens up around him, chasing his own orgasm with quick movements of his hands. “Little more, sweetheart,” he pants, the closest thing to begging Mark’s heard from him tonight.

Johnny keeps them going, the sloppy rhythm of his thrusts pushing Mark into Taeyong until Mark feels the hot splash of come on his stomach from Taeyong. He moans, leans into the hand that strokes his hair. It must be Yuta.

It only takes Johnny a handful of thrusts more before he comes to, spilling into Mark. Mark moans; he can feel the way Johnny’s dick pulses, the added wetness of his come inside him mixing with the lube. It’s intense. 

For a long moment, there’s no sound. Or maybe it’s just the buzzing in Mark’s ears. He feels Taeyong shift out from under him, his softening dick slipping from Taeyong and dragging against the sheets. It feels like torture and Mark whines.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Taeyong says, petting Mark’s cheek, then adds, “You good, Johnny?”

Johnny laughs breathlessly. “Yeah. Fuck,” he says. “Give me a second.” He pets Mark’s flank, soothes a hand over his lower back and says, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay? You’re gonna feel weird, but I promise, we’re right here.”

Mark whimpers. 

His brain feels like it’s turned into mush. Complicated things like words don’t process as fast as they should, but sensation still comes flying through. He gasps when Johnny starts to pull out, the sound turning into a full-on wail the longer it goes on. It’s too much. He hates the drag against his rim, but he hates the gaping sensation left behind, too. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Yuta murmurs. “I know it sucks but you can do it.”

Finally, Mark is empty. Without anyone holding him up, he collapses onto the bed. The sheets are wet with sweat and lube and who knows what else, but Mark doesn’t care. He’s so far out of it he doesn’t think he could move even if the building was on fire.

He slips in and out of lucidity as the others clean up. Someone slides the blindfold off his face, but Mark keeps his eyes shut tight. There’s a damp washcloth that’s used to gently wipes his face, another one that cleans between his legs. He shudders away from the touch, but Johnny says, “Be good for me, baby,” and he finds himself obeying, holding still as Johnny cleans him with a tender touch. 

Someone picks him up, dresses him in a soft t-shirt and a pair of boxers, cradles him in their lap while the others strip the bed. The soft tickle of hair at the edge of Mark’s jaw tells him it’s Yuta. “You gonna open your eyes yet, Markie?” he asks, stroking along Mark’s spine. 

Mark -- doesn’t really want to. He’s afraid that the moment he opens his eyes the spell will break, the illusion will shatter. The scene was to bring him into the fold, show him what it means to be part of 95 line, but when the scene ends he’ll still just be Mark Lee. He’ll still be four years younger than them and miles below them in experience. 

“No,” he mumbles, tucking his face further into Yuta’s neck. “Not yet.”

Yuta laughs. “Okay,” he says and presses a kiss to Mark’s cheek. 

It only takes a couple minutes longer before the bed is remade. Yuta lays Mark down in the middle of the mattress before curling up next to him.

“You had your cuddles already,” Taeyong whines. There’s a dip in the bed and then strong, wiry arms are worming their way around Mark’s body. Mark melts into the touch.

“Thanks for leaving me some room, guys,” Johnny says. He doesn’t sound annoyed, but Mark feels his heart speed up. Is there really not enough room for all of them? It gets him to crack his eyes open.

He has to blink a few times before things come into focus, or as in focus as they’re going to get without his glasses on. Yuta grins at him, dips forward to press a kiss to his nose. “Hi, Markie,” he says.

“Hi,” Mark croaks, alarmed by how wrecked his voice sounds. From the devilish turn to Yuta’s mouth, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, are you with us?” Taeyong asks, sitting up as best he can without dislodging Mark. 

Mark shrugs. He feels more together than he had while they were fucking, but there’s an anxiety burning its way though his chest that he can’t shake. What happens when they don’t want him after this?

He’s alarmed by how quickly the tears spring to his eyes because he’s not usually a crier. He watches the smile fall off Yuta’s face, feels the way Taeyong’s arms tighten around him when he starts to shake. The panic wells up in him abruptly: he’s disappointed them.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” Johnny says. He’s managed to find a space for himself on the bed and he strokes a hand through Mark’s hair. 

“Please,” Mark begs, tucking his face against the pillow to muffle the pathetic sobs that wrack his body. “Please don’t -- don’t leave me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Taeyong says. He presses a kiss to the back of Mark’s head. “We’re right here.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Yuta adds.

They don’t say anything while Mark calms down, just reassure him with soft touches and faint kisses. When Mark finally feels like he won’t burst into tears again, he wipes his face against the pillow case and says, “Sorry.”

“What for?” Johnny asks, passing him the cloth they’d -- presumably -- used earlier to wash his face and a bottle of water, which Mark drains to half in record time. “You were perfect tonight.”

Mark thinks about the night, the way they had treasured him, how he wants that always. How can he be with anyone else now that he’s had this?

“Why do you think we’re going to leave you?” Yuta asks suddenly. “You got so upset, Markie.”

Mark opens his mouth, shuts it again because he’s afraid. He doesn’t want to sound -- needy. He’s an adult, capable of making his own decisions. He could ask for this again if he wanted and he’s certain that all three of them would say yes -- whether together or individually -- but what he really wants is something more. Something long term.

“Did you think this was just a one-off, baby?” Johnny asks. He’s still petting through Mark’s hair, curled behind Taeyong so that he can lean in closer. Mark realizes, with a start, that he hasn’t kissed Johnny yet tonight. Or ever, frankly.

“Hyung,” he whimpers.

He feels Taeyong’s arms pull back, watches as Yuta sits up. Mark feels cold immediately, not just from the lack of body heat, but from the dread the seeps into his bones.

“Sit up, baby,” Johnny says. “We’re not upset. It’ll just be easier to talk like this.”

Mark does as he’s told, shifting on the bed so that he can turn around and face everyone. They’re all so beautiful, chiseled jaws and sharp, clever eyes and soft lips. Mark feels gangly and inadequate in comparison.

“Mark,” Taeyong says. It’s the first time he’s said his name since they started. “We -- maybe we should have been more clear about this when we started, but you know what this was, right?”

“Your initiation,” Yuta pipes up before Mark can answer. “We’re bringing you into 95 line.”

“And once you’re here, you can’t leave,” Johnny says, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re stuck with us, baby.”

Mark swallows. He can’t detect a lie, but he’s still unsure. “I -- really?” he asks, hating how small and vulnerable he sounds.

“Really,” Taeyong confirms. “We want you, sweetheart.”

Mark thinks that if he hadn't just cried his way through getting gangbanged and then the aftermath of said gangbang, he’d be in tears again. As it is, he just lets out a slow exhale, feeling the tension dissipate from his body. “I want you too,” he says, which is worth the smiles that are returned to him.

“Excellent. Now that we have that covered, though, let’s take a nap,” Yuta announces, promptly flopping back onto the bed. 

“Yeah, I’m exhausted.”

“Yong, you didn’t even _do_ anything. You just laid there and took it.”

Mark smiles at Yuta and Taeyong’s squabbling. When he looks up, Johnny’s watching him, gaze heavy and thoughtful. He bites his lower lip and Mark watches the movement, catalogs the way the colour drains at the pressure point before flooding back when Johnny lets go.

“Hyung,” he says. “We haven’t kissed yet.”

This, at least, catches Yuta’s attention. “Oh?” he asks gleefully, propping himself up on one arm. “Really?”

Johnny shrugs. “Never a good angle for it.”

Mark fiddles with the edge of his t-shirt. Now that his eyes are open, he can tell it’s one of Johnny’s. It’s too large to be anyone else’s. 

“Well,” Taeyong drawls from where he’s still sprawled out on the bed. “What are you waiting for?”

Johnny moves across the bed like a tiger on the prowl. Mark shouldn’t feel nervous -- he just had Johnny’s dick in his ass, this is tame in comparison -- but he wants it to be good for Johnny. He had to wait the longest.

Johnny pauses in front of him, sharp grin but kind eyes settling Mark’s nerves. “It’s just me,” he says, like he can read Mark’s mind. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Mark says. Easy. “Kiss me, hyung.”

Johnny’s lips are a little spit slick and chapped, but Mark doesn’t mind. He’s sure his aren’t much better. He melts easily into Johnny’s touch, lets Johnny lead. When they pull apart, Johnny’s smiling.

“Does this mean we have to keep track of kisses?” Yuta asks, tugging on Mark’s leg from where he’s flopped back down on the mattress. “Like, do we need to keep things even?”

“That would be hard,” Taeyong says around a yawn. Mark lets himself be pulled back in between them, watches as Johnny fits himself around Taeyong so that they’re all crammed together on the bed. It won’t work for them in the long term, but it’s nice for now, to feel so close to everyone. “We’d just spend all day kissing Mark just to keep up with each other.”

Mark giggles. He feels -- light. Happy. More like himself again. “I think I could be okay with that,” he mumbles into Taeyong’s neck.

Yuta pinches his ass, making him yelp. “Yeah, I bet you would,” he says. “Greedy.”

Mark thinks that maybe that would be okay. How could he not be greedy with the love of three of the most important people in his life? And it’s easy to receive their affections when they shower it on him so freely, when they appreciate how hard he works and how sweet he can be.

Taeyong’s already asleep, his breathing slow and steady. Mark can tell Johnny and Yuta are on their way, too. Sleep tugs at the edges of his mind, a soft haze instead of the all-encompassing fog from earlier. It’s light enough that Mark’s thoughts are especially clear when he recalls the rules from earlier.

One: don’t come without permission. Done.

Two: be good for his hyungs.

Mark grins into Taeyong’s neck. Also done. He falls asleep to the quiet sounds of breathing, bodies pressed around him holding him close, and a full heart.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [twitter](http://twitter.com/monstplaza) or on my [cc](http://curiouscat.me/monstplaza).


End file.
